


About You

by MissMonsters2



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, fem!reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMonsters2/pseuds/MissMonsters2
Summary: Gifs by: giuliacommissions (unless stated otherwise) (please check her out if you’d like to commission her for gifs and other work 💞)PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader/OFCSummary: Wanda had never known loss like she has until she lost Pietro. It’s debilitating. She can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t even leave her house. Life is fading fast, and she’s not sure if she even wants to hang on. Enter you, a stranger that reconnects her to the daily things that makes life beautiful.Warnings: Deals with loss & grief and the spectrum of emotions and depression that comes with it. Please note there is no glorification in any of this. Loss, grief, and depression are nothing beautiful. Also, please don’t hesitate or reach out for help if you are in a dark place. Love you, lovelies 💘Genre: Angst & Romance
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff/Reader, Wanda Maximoff/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 139
Collections: Wanda Maximoff Reader-Inserts





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Translations + Transliteration  
> детская сестра/detskaya sestra - Baby sister

“Are you done?” 

It was just another day for Wanda. Harsh words and cold stares were what she was known for. She currently had a busted lip and a small cut on her left eyebrow as she stood straight with her hands on her lips in front of a boy.

Small sobs could be heard behind her, and honestly, the sound was a little grating to Wanda, and she wondered why she often encountered these situations. 

The boy in front of her looked worse for wear with a bloodied mouth, his right eye swelling fast, threatening to shut, and a dark bruise on his cheek. 

He stared at her a little longer, panting as his knees trembled before he turned and high tailed it out.

Wanda sighed as she walked over, picking up a dirtied backpack and putting the spilled contents back in before she walked over to the sobbing girl and handed over her things. 

The girl continued crying, and Wanda pursed her lips slightly.

“Stop crying. You have your things back, and he’s not going to bother you again.” The words were callous itself, but they held a gentle message that the girl accepted. Nodding with a quiet thanks, the girl left, and Wanda was left standing alone. 

“Playing hero again today, are we?”

The words caught Wanda’s attention as she looked behind her up the hill and saw her twin brother standing there, leaning against the tree under the shade with his arms crossed and his smirky grin. 

Wanda merely gave him a weary grin as he ran down the hill to meet his little sister with a laugh and a handkerchief. 

“You should see yourself from a distance. You look like a badass.” Pietro used his handkerchief to dab it gently against Wanda’s brow and lip, wiping the blood away.

He frowned disapprovingly at his sister when she ducked her face away, the look thoroughly scolding Wanda as she held her face in place. 

“Relax, **детская сестра** , there’s no one else here,” he comforted her.

Wanda didn’t say anything else except grumble about how she was only twelve minutes younger than him, which caused him to grin. 

He delicately began to dap again, wiping at the blood and dirt. She stayed still until he began wiping at her lip and watched as she subtly clenched her jaw.

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” Wanda answered immediately, and Pietro pursed lips and furrowed his brow to visibly show his displeasure at her answer.

“Don’t lie about such things with family. You don’t need to hide it from me, you know,” he tells her. 

Wanda was rough around the edges, could be quite prickly if she wanted to be, which often led to people misunderstanding her while her outgoing, kind, and talkative older twin brother would come swooping in to clear any problems she made. 

Life was hard for them.

No parents, no home country, just barely making it on their student visa, seeking refuge in a foreign land. 

The only family they had left was each other.

“You’re only you, and I’m only me. I’ll always be here for you, so don’t ever think twice about asking for help.”

Pietro pulled Wanda into a hug while ruffling her hair. She grumbled and whined about being hugged, but secretly had a small smile against his shoulder.

The two siblings grew up, both a force to be reckoned with in their chosen career paths. They had their own lives and ways to fill their time but never strayed far from one another.

Family means everything to Wanda.

And then everything was gone.

And now Wanda was lost.

That’s what she thought as she stood before a casket, staring at a small black and white picture frame resting against it, looking at Pietro’s grayscale smile heart-heavy and trembling lips.

“Help me.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Wanda! Do you hear me? It wasn’t your fault!”

There was pounding on the door, but Wanda ignored it as she sat against the door on the floor, clutching a red leather jacket that Pietro had gotten her when they first arrived in America. 

It was completely wrinkled, but Wanda hadn’t let it go for days.

Weeks.

Months.

A year. 

There were more no more tears, but the grief lingered. The empty hollowness took place.

Steve stood at the door, fist against it as he tried to get Wanda out. She was so sad. So, _so_ sad. And she was right to be, he was sad too. But he wondered how long she would punish herself, slowly kill herself. He looked around the house, finding empty liquor bottles, scattered photos, and notes of confessed guilt and hatred that broke his heart.

“Pietro wouldn’t have wanted this!” Steve tried again.

He was right. Steve was right, but Pietro was gone, so what did it matter? Pietro, the most important thing in Wanda’s life was gone, and she was still here. 

“Please…Please, Wanda,” Steve’s voice trembled as he put his forehead against the door. 

“Please live.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda sat at the bridge she and Pietro stood at all the time. She remembers during some of the hardest times of their life, they stood here. She remembers during the best times of their life, they were here. 

And now she sat here alone. 

Her feet dangled at the edge as she looked down.

It felt different without Pietro, but she never felt closer to him than she did now. 

Her mind wandered as she leaned over slightly.

And then she was caught. 

Someone was standing on her jacket. Wanda turns around to see you standing there, foot on the back of her jacket and arms crossed.

“You shouldn’t make such rash decisions,” you tell her and Wanda is immediately defensive.

“It’s none of your business,” she tells you with a hard glare.

“You’re making it my business by being out here. It’s a public bridge, and in my own good conscience, I can’t stand by and watch–”

“Don’t act like you understand my pain and reason!” Wanda doesn’t mean to yell at the stranger, but the gall of this person to stand there and act like a good samaritan pisses her off. 

“You’re right, you’re only you, and I’m only me.” 

Wanda clenches her jaw at the painful ringing in her ears from the familiar words.

“So, let me understand.”

Wanda snaps her head up at the stranger with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

“Excuse me?”

“I want three months with you,” you tell her plainly.

“ _No,_ why in the hell would I–”

“You have nothing to lose.”

“You’re a stranger,” Wanda rebuttals.

You introduce yourself to her. “Now I’m not a stranger anymore.”

It’s silent for a moment. 

“Why?” Wanda asks you hotly.

You tilt your head to the side as Wanda regards you.

“I’m offering help.”


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations + Transliteration  
> Это если вы так говорите/Eto yesli vy tak govorite - It is if you say so

“So, who is she?” Steve asked as he peered over Wanda’s still body in bed, hair sprawled wildly.

“A headache,” Wanda sluggishly replied with her eyes closed. “Tell her to leave.”

Steve had come over to check on Wanda, surprised to see that there were no longer liquor bottles on the floor, the photos, and papers all cleaned up.

There weren’t even the usual clothes strewn around. 

“It’s already noon, it’s time to get up.”

The voice caused Steve to look over at the door where you entered in, making your way to the windows. You opened up the curtains, letting the sunlight in as Wanda hissed quietly.

“I’m Steve, Wanda’s friend.”

You introduced yourself with a smile. “I’m here to help Wanda.”

“She asked for your help?” Steve said confusedly, and it was fair. It would be out of character for Wanda.

You shook your head, “No, we’re friends.”

Wanda wanted to scream about how you were lying, but then she would actually have to explain to Steve how she met you, where she met you, and what she was doing.

Steve understood the grief and the depression but left it at that, thinking Wanda wasn’t taking anything further.

And she didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“That’s great!” Steve exclaimed. “Let’s exchange numbers. Any friend of Wanda’s is a friend of mine.”

The two of you exchanged numbers while Wanda listened to a tiny clicking on their phones.

“I was going to clean up but looks like you beat me to it,” Steve grinned at you while you returned it. 

He stood up, digging into his pocket and then gave you a key.

“This is a spare key to the house, please have it. I have to head to work now, but don’t hesitate to call me for anything.” 

You stared at the key Steve left in your hand with a slight furrow in your brows.

Wanda heard Steve leave, his footsteps getting quieter until she heard the click of the door. She knew that you were still standing there, waiting for her to get up, but Wanda doesn’t care. 

She will not defer to you, and so, she goes back to sleep.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Pietro!” 

Wanda wakes up in a cold sweat, chest heaving as if she’s run a marathon.

She looks around the empty room. There’s still light out, but Wanda can tell it’s becoming the evening. 

Wanda let out a heavy sigh, burying her face into her hands as she let out a choked sob.

Another nightmare. 

Another dream where she would see Pietro, cycling through his death. 

It was chipping away at her. 

Her home was clean now because of you, but Wanda couldn’t find what she wanted the most. 

Her tears ran down her cheeks, traveling to her chin, the saltiness, and aloneness on her lips. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the empty room.

It was her fault. 

She was alone and it was her fault. Wanda couldn’t help but replay the incident over and over again, thinking about what if she just made a different choice?

Would Pietro still be here?

The thoughts were slowly killing her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Flashback…

“You should give everything a chance,” Pietro told Wanda as they skipped class, sitting out on the hill enjoying the warm sun.

“For how long should I give it a chance?”

“Hm,” Pietro hummed, “Maybe a year?”

Wanda scoffed, “And if it was a waste of my time?”

Pietro only grinned at her. “Nothing is a waste of your time, Wanda. If anything, at least you’ve experienced something new.”

Wanda picked at the grass underneath her before running her fingers through the long stems. She looked up, scrunching her eyes as she glanced at the blue sky, soft clouds slowly moving by.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay?” Pietro asked amusedly at his sister, taken by her lack of arguing more with him.

“Это если вы так говорите,” Wanda looks down at her knees.

Pietro merely laughed, ruffling his younger sister’s hair as she scowled at him.

Still, she leaned just slightly against his arm, basking in the warm sunny day.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda had listened to Pietro and given his death a chance for a year. She had endured the grief and pain alone with nothing getting better.

And now, you had come, loud and invasive with no regard for Wanda’s space. 

Wanda wiped her tears–or sweat, she wasn’t sure at this point, giving a humorless chuckle. She perked up slightly when she heard the door jiggle aggressively, keys unlocking the door before the knob turned and footsteps entered in.

“Wanda! If you’re still sleeping, I will strangle you!”

Wanda silently groaned. God help her.

Natasha was here. 

Before Wanda even had time to react, Natasha was already in her room, ripping the blankets off and exposing her to the cold.

“Why are you like this? I just want to sleep.” Wanda whined, retracting her legs into her body to try to keep the warmth in.

“Have you eaten yet? Natasha asked, completely ignoring what Wanda said. She dragged the other girl to the kitchen while Wanda rubbed her eye tiredly. 

“Why are you here? Go back to work, I’m fine,” Wanda grumbled. 

“You’re my chosen family,” Natasha tells her. “You’re my job too.”

Natasha may be the only reason Wanda was still eating. It was a forceful method, but it got the job nonetheless. Natasha was not as gentle as Steve.

“Did you make the food?” Wanda eyed the food Natasha put down in front of her. As much as Wanda wanted to go, she refused to go by food poisoning. 

“No,” Natasha rolled her eyes. “This is compliments of Tony’s chef.”

Wanda nodded but didn’t make any move to eat. Natasha looked around the house, the mess from a few days ago now gone. 

“Steve tells me you made a new friend.” Natasha turns her head back to Wanda.

Wanda holds her grimace.

A nuisance, really, she thinks.

“Is she coming today?” Natasha asks.

Wanda hopes not.

“Maybe,” she says instead.

“Good,” Natasha hums. “I’m glad there’s someone new in your life.”

It was then it occurred to Wanda she doesn’t know where you are. It was answered when she heard the doorknob jiggling again before you came in with grocery bags.

“Hey, I bought some–oh, hello,” you greet Natasha when you realize Wanda wasn’t alone. You introduce yourself to her, earning a smile and a name back from Natasha. 

“Great timing,” Natasha says as she gathers her belongings. “I have to head back to work to finish some things, but feel free to eat some of the food.”

Natasha eyes Wanda before raising her brow. “And keep a close eye on Wanda when she eats, she’s sneaky.”

You scrunched your face at that. 

“Wanda,” Natasha calls her, “eat the food. I’ll be checking the garbage and sink when I’m back.”

Wanda doesn’t say anything as Natasha leaves, leaving the two of you in silence. 

“The food looks good,” you say to break the quiet.

Wanda doesn’t respond.

“Are you hungry?”

No response.

“You should eat it before it gets col–”

“I’m not eating,” Wanda tells you plainly, getting up and walking into the living room.

You sigh lightly, trailing after her until you stood before her–invading Wanda’s space.

“Steve told me you’ve been like this for a year.”

Wanda doesn’t say anything. 

“You’ve been mourning for a year.”

The way you said it, like you felt sorry for her, like you could empathize how she’s felt–what she’s been through–it made Wanda clench her jaw. 

“Is this worth it?”

Whatever apathy Wanda felt disappeared with those words. Instead, a white, hot rage overcame her as she clenched her jaw.

“It would hurt him to see you like thi–”

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” Wanda hissed. 

It was silent as you took in the threat, taking another breath before talking again.

“He would’ve wanted you to move–”

“Do you have any siblings?”

The question threw you off and Wanda narrows her eyes at you.

“Do you have a brother or sister who loved you, would do anything for you?”

The question leaves you quiet and Wanda feels a quiet satisfaction from your lack of answer, her anger slipping away until she’s dull again. 

“Stop acting like you can understand my pain,” Wanda walks to take a seat on the couch, ignoring your presence once more. She expects you to leave from her callous words and harsh behavior, not ever coming back.

“No, I don’t have any siblings,” you say after a moment of silence, your lips quirking half-heartedly up, and surprising Wanda. 

“And it makes me a little envious.”


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations + Transliteration  
> детская сестра/detskaya sestra - Baby sister

“You should eat.”

Wanda ignores you as she sits on the couch, looking at the wall. She knows she looks thin, Natasha often points it out along with her dark circles that have seemed to find a permanent home underneath her eyes. Your words seem to pass right through Wanda as she never acknowledges what you say. Even though she wants you to know she doesn’t want you here, she stays silent.

“Your body will become weak from the lack of nutrients, and if you grow weak, I doubt you’ll have the energy to tell me—”

“Stop!” Wanda angrily yells. It’s the most life she’s shown in the weeks.

You’re caught mid-sentence as you sit still next to her, biting your lip.

“I didn’t mean to make you angry,” you finally say, and Wanda has to screw her eyes shut.

Because she knows that you didn’t mean to. 

This ugly feeling that festers within her and poor behavior was something she would’ve never shown a year ago. 

But a year ago, everything was different.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

_“Alone again, huh?”_

_Wanda looks up to see Pietro leaning against the tree as he peers over to her. Her fork stops mid-air to her mouth as she looks back at him._

_“I’m not alone,” she grins, “you’re here.”_

_Pietro just laughs as he takes a seat next to her, stealing some of her food._

_“Hey!” Wanda pouts but doesn’t stop her brother._

_“You know everyone was scared of you at first, right?” Pietro says while chewing._

_Wanda merely shrugs._

_“I don’t mind.”_

_“You should, it can get pretty lonely,” Pietro leans back against the tree bark, absently thinking about how it scratches lightly against his back._

_“It’s not lonely. I have you,” Wanda repeats, but Pietro just laughs and shakes his head. He turns to his younger twin, ruffling her hair while she scowls._

_“I want you to surrounded by people, детская сестра,” Pietro tells her, and he can feel Wanda tense at the thought of having to go and meet people. “I’ll bring people to you, we can share our circle of friends.”_

_Wanda relaxes her shoulders and smiles at Pietro before going back to eat her food, but her brother pulls her cheek while she whines._

_“We will always be family, so don’t ever say no to anyone’s kindness for me.”_

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Such a stupid memory.

But nonetheless, Wanda felt the burn.

“What do you want to know?” Wanda sighs, and you lick your lips. You pause momentarily because you’re not expecting it, but you resume getting the glass of water for Wanda. 

The floor feels cold as you slide your feet across the wooden tiles, absently feeling the dents and bumps that occasionally come across.

“Why do you want to die?”

The question comes abruptly, making Wanda tense. You hadn’t said a thing about that night until now, and Wanda doesn’t bring up why she was about to jump off the bridge.

But Wanda forces her shoulders to lower as you hand her the glass, Wanda looked over to the empty seat, and you take the gesture and sit down next to her.

The glass is cold, Wanda notices. It has ice in it just the way she likes, and she sighs.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

_It was a celebratory party, might be one of the happiest nights of Wanda’s life.  
She had sold her first painting for twenty grand._

_Everyone was gathered at her home._

_Well, the people who mattered._

_Pietro, Natasha, Steve, and Clint._

_Everyone was pouring her drinks and clinking glasses with her._

_Wanda had worked so hard, holed up in her room slaving over her work of art, she didn’t even have time to see Pietro._

_So, it was nice to finally get to see everyone again. The night was coming to an end, and everyone left, leaving just the two siblings._

_“Let’s go to the bridge,” Wanda says suddenly._

_Pietro opens his tired but happy eyes._

_“What? No way, it’s so late,” he says even though he grins._

_“C’mon,” Wanda whines, “It’s been forever since we’ve been there. It’s basically tradition go there whenever anything happens.”_

_“Ugh, but I’m so tired,” Pietro whines back at her, slouching more into the couch. Wanda pushes him, and he laughs._

_“Alright, alright, let’s go, детская сестра,” Pietro pulls himself up, stretching and groaning as he did. He grabs his leather jacket and winks at her._

_The drive always feels a little far, but Wanda never minds because she uses the time to catch up with what’s been going on in Pietro’s life._

_To think her spunky brother grew up and went into marketing. Though, she supposed it fit him._

_Pietro was telling her something about work. It was mundane but so exciting to him, and he was rambling._

_They’re crossing an intersection, and suddenly everything is spinning, and glass is shattering. She barely registers an arm over her, protecting her head._

_Everything_ hurts _._

_She feels a hot liquid dripping down the side of her head. She barely opens her eyes to see everything is upside down, and there’s smoke._

_Then everything is black._

_When she wakes up, she’s in a hospital room, all patched up. The color of the white walls and blinding lights hurt her eyes._

_Natasha and Steve are beside her. Natasha, who never cries, is crying, and Steve can’t even look her in the eyes while his eyes are bloodshot._

_And she learns that Pietro died before the ambulance arrived._

_But all she can feel is the ghost of his hand protecting her head._

_That’s where everything ended._

_Wanda locks herself in her room, gripping Pietro’s jacket because that’s all she has left._

_Clint helps take care of the funeral because Wanda can’t seem to get it together._

_There’s a repeating thought about how does everything end in one moment? One split second, and her whole crumbles underneath her feet, and she didn’t even get to say goodbye._

_“Wanda, please, come out!” Steve shouts through the door, banging on it to try to get her to come out until Natasha touches his shoulder. He turns around to see that her eyes are still red, and he clenches his jaw.  
_

_The two of them turn their back to the door, sliding to the ground, crying for Wanda on the other side._

_“I’m sorry, Wanda,” Natasha says to the silence.  
_

_Wanda clenches her jaw because they don’t understand._

_They don’t know how she begged and bothered Pietro to take her to the bridge._

_If only she hadn’t asked._

_If she hadn’t asked, then they wouldn’t have been out there._

_Pietro wouldn’t have been too tired to notice he was running a red light, and their car wouldn’t have been hit by a truck._

_And she wouldn’t be here, clutching his leather jacket and crying._

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda stares at the ceiling, bitterly recalling the day everything changed for her. She’s gripping her glass of water so hard, her knuckles are turning white. You bite your lip because the tears won’t stop falling. 

You can’t think of anything to say except what you’re sure everyone else has already said to Wanda.

“It wasn’t your fau–”

“Don’t you dare say it,” Wanda cuts in, her grip tightening even more.

“Do you blame yourself?” You ask instead.

“Of course,” Wanda sneers, “if I hadn’t made him go, he’d…”

Wanda can’t even say it out loud.

“You can’t make Pietro do anything,” you say before adding, “from what it sounds like.”

Natasha and Steve spend time describing Pietro to you while avoiding why Wanda is cannot move on.

Wanda bites her tongue, but the grip on her glass stays in a vice.

“If Pietro was truly too tired to take you, then he should’ve stood his ground–”

And suddenly, Wanda stands and throws the glass cup across the room, shattering it against the wall as the tiny pieces fall to the ground, water staining the rug underneath. 

“Are you trying to say it’s his fault?!” She screams at you half in disbelief and half in anger.

“No,” you say after a moment of silence. “I want you to see that there’s no point in blaming yourself.”

“Why? Because you think my brother does whatever it wants without listening to others?” Wanda jeers, her eyes glaring at you.

“If you want to put it so simply, then sure,” you shrug as you stand to face her. 

“What would you know about him?” She scoffs. 

“Perhaps nothing,” you nod your head at her, “but here’s the harsh truth: you are alive.”

Tears immediately spring to Wanda’s eyes because she’s painfully aware of the fact that she’s alive, and Pietro is not.

“If you want to blame yourself, fine,” you relent, “but figure out how to forgive yourself and move on.”

“Fuck you!” Wanda screams at you. Your words are cutting, and Wanda doesn’t understand you at all. She chokes on a sob, and your face softens. You can see how the guilt is eating Wanda alive, and you pull her into your arms.

She’s fighting you immediately, pushing and struggling, but you hold on.

“Let go!”

Wanda is confused as to why you don’t listen. She doesn’t understand how your arms are so warm and the compassion you manage to convey.

“Stop!”

She doesn’t want this.

She doesn’t want forgiveness or compassion. She wants to be punished.

Wanda hisses, pushing more against you, fighting against the hug.

“If you can’t forgive yourself yet, then that’s okay too. But please stop hurting alone.”

Wanda’s crying and fisting your shirt. For a moment, you’re unsure if she’s going to rip your shirt and claw at your back to let go, but then you feel her hot tears soak your shoulders. Her palm spreads against your back, and she’s limp in your arms, shuddering when you tighten your embrace.

“Let me be here too,” you whisper in her ear.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Sorry about the glass.”

You hear the small apology as you’re picking up the pieces of glasses on the floor. You’re going to need to find a sweep. 

You turn to her and smile, “It’s fine. You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Wanda watches from the couch, voicing a soft, “No.”

A part of her feels embarrassed for falling apart in your arms, but you don’t seem to think anything of it. 

She watches as you pause while cleaning.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asks, mildly concerned.

You don’t turn around immediately, but then you clear your throat and stand up with your hands casually in your pocket.

“Yeah, I just realize it’s probably better if I just sweep up the glass. You’ve got a broom in your kitchen closet, right? I’ll be right back.”

When you leave the room, Wanda gets up and walks over to the mess she’s made and sees just a tiny drop of blood on one of the broken pieces.

You were clearly hurt, so why would you lie about it to her? It’s normal for friends and family to lie about such things, but a stranger?

She stares at the broken glass piece, stained with your wound.

And something stirs within Wanda’s chest, uncomfortable and tight. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“This is really unnecessary.”

The two of you sit together at her dining table, with her at the head and you right next to her. You’ve reheated the food, the various dishes spread around as you stare at her.

“We can’t leave this table until you eat,” you say with no inflection in your voice.

“That seems rather forceful,” Wanda grumbles.

“It wouldn’t be if you just ate. C’mon, I had to go to four different groceries to get the stuff to make that dish,” you pout a little, and Wanda looks over to you.

She looks at your poorly bandaged hand and thought to earlier about how you merely waved her off, saying you nicked yourself cooking.

Another lie. 

And the familiar feeling of tightness in her chest comes with a new sense of gratitude.

The feeling is entirely small, but it’s still there.

Wanda glances at you and moves to scoop some food onto her spoon. The metal clanks clumsily against her teeth, the metal sliding against her tongue as she gets the initial taste of the food. It’s almost hard to swallow because there’s a warmth within her stomach, hitting her in the back of the throat. 

You smile, watching Wanda eat, repeated motions of scooping food on her spoon and putting it in her mouth.

“Thank you,” you say, looking at your own bowl.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You’re sitting on the couch, watching some TV show, and eating candy when Wanda appears with a First Aid kit.

“Did you disinfect it?” She asks as she sits down, pointing to your cut.

You look at your hand.

“Mm…I ran it under the water?” You tilt your head.

You hear Wanda huff a little, and you almost smile.

“Let me see it,” She huffs.

“It’s okay, reall—”

“Give. Me. Your. Hand.”

You pause momentarily before you offer the wounded appendage.

The cut is deep.

She carefully unwraps the bandage, frowning when she sees the cut. She opens the kit and grabs a Q-Tip and the disinfectant.

The first initial touch has you hissing and curling your fingers a little. Wanda doesn’t say anything and blows lightly. When she’s satisfied with her work, she starts to re-bandage it.

“What if you got tetanus? See how much time you wasted lying you weren’t hurt?” Wanda says, tone almost as if she were scolding you.

You laugh, “Well, I wouldn’t call it a _waste_. If I somehow got tetanus from glass, I’ll certainly have experienced something new.”

The words make Wanda’s jaw clench, the words ringing in her ears.

_“Nothing is a waste of your time, Wanda. If anything, at least you’ve experienced something new.”_

She finishes wrapping the bandage cleanly, clearly much better than you.

Wanda looks at you as you’re watching the TV again, not even aware how your words always seem to painfully ring in her ears.

_“Nothing is a waste of your time, Wanda. If anything, at least you’ve experienced something new.”_

It’s still a waste, isn’t it?

Why does she even need to experience something new?

You seem to notice Wanda staring and turn your head to her. Even though she’s been blatantly caught staring, Wanda doesn’t care. She watches your eyes travel down at the bag of candy you’re eating, making a momentary pout before offering her some. 

More stupid things that Pietro has said like, _“You’re only you, and I’m only me. I’ll always be here for you, so don’t ever think twice about asking for help,”_ and “ _We will always be family, so don’t ever say no to anyone’s kindness for me.”_

She thinks back to the funeral, where she was couched over her twin brother’s still body, crying and begging for help. Fingers digging into her own palm, ears ringing, and breath shaking, she asks you, “Why me? Why are you doing this?”

Still offering your candy, you tilt your head at Wanda.

“My kindness is the only thing I have to offer, so why not you?”


	4. Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations + Transliteration  
> Пьетро - Pietro

_“Honestly, you need to get out more.”_

_Wanda huffs as she tries to refocus back on her painting. Pietro has decided to come visit her during his lunch hour from work and he seems to be in a mood of harassing her on her social skills—or really lack of._

_“I don’t know if you noticed, Pietro, but considering that my form of a 9-5 job includes me sitting in this studio all day painting solo. There’s not much I can do about human interaction.” Wanda dabs her paintbrush in the blue of her palette, coming back up with a steady hand as she continues her work._

_Her brother admires the unfinished art his sister is creating, but he grins when he hears her reply._

_“If that’s the case, I can totally introduce you to someone. They would seriously be perfect for you; hopefully, help you loosen the stick up your—”_

_“Пьетро!” She yells, accent thick as she glares at him, a slight blush on her cheeks. She rolls her eyes as she hears his laughter._

_“Alright, but seriously, Wanda. I could introduce you to someone.”_

_Wanda focuses on painting again, absently noticing how she’s got the color green on her thumb, but she’s pretty sure she didn’t take out green today._

_“Not now, I’m pretty busy with work.”_

_She whines when she feels Pietro flick the back of her head._

_“Look at you, all grown up and busy with work.”_

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You’re about to leave Wanda’s after doing her dishes and sweeping the floor. You’re seemingly checking to make sure you have all your things when you notice for the first time that’s heavily pouring outside.

There’s thunder and lightning, you can barely see in front of you when you look out the window.

You hum before Wanda appears beside you, looking out the window as well.

“How did you get here?” She asks softly.

“Driving,” you answer absently, still staring at the harsh rain pouring outside. It’s not like you haven’t driven in this weather before. You’re quite adept at driving in harsh conditions being overly cautious when on the road. You’ll quite often take the back roads knowing there won’t be other cars.

“This is going to be a bitch driving home,” you sigh, turning around to leave when you feel something pull at the end of your jacket.

You turn around to see Wanda looking at you seriously.

“It is too dangerous to drive,” she tells you plainly.

“It’ll be fine,” you tell her with a wave, but Wanda doesn’t let go of her hold.

“I don’t know how long it’s going to pour for, and it’s already getting pretty late,” you purse your lips.

“You can stay the night.”

You think Wanda would be more reserved about you letting her invade her space. After all, she had been quite clear about wanting you to leave and that you were a nuisance, but then you see the look in her eyes and the seriousness in them.

She won’t say it, but you don’t need her to.

“Okay,” you agree gently.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You find it kind of hard to fall asleep on Wanda’s couch. Not that it’s uncomfortable because her couch is weirdly better than your bed at home, but you can definitely hear the walls expanding and contracting and the drops of water from the sink.

You’ve probably lain in bed for hours now, wide awake. You sigh quietly, getting up and moussing your hair. You’re probably not going to get much sleep at this point, so you get up and to pour yourself a glass of water.

And then you hear it.

It’s quiet with Wanda having her door nearly shut, but the sound traveled through the small crack.

It was a groan.

And _no_ , not a sexy groan, but a groan that indicated she might be in pain.

You bite your tongue, debating if you should go check because you’re not sure if Wanda would appreciate you entering her bedroom, but you hear her groan again and immediately go check. Opening the door slowly and quietly, your eyes try to adjust to the dark room. You do see a mass of hair in the bed and vague figure tossing and turning.

Making your way in, you kneel on the ground beside the bed, looking over at Wanda. Her face is scrunched up, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, and lips trembling.

“ _Пьетро…_ ”

It’s comes easier than you think it would to brush your cold fingers against her warm cheeks, watching as her face settles and unconsciously rub her face closer to your hand.

Honestly, it feels like someone is slamming a hammer right into your chest because you never thought seeing a stranger hurt like this could hurt you too.

Because she looks lost like you do.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Wanda can always tell if she’s had a nightmare. She wakes slowly, blinking in the dark. She feels different, but Wanda cannot exactly explain why.

Slowly getting up, she felt a weight drag on her hand.

Looking down, she noticed you sitting on the floor, hunched over her bed with your hand intertwined with hers.

Her eyes traveled over your bare shoulders and arms, noticing the lack of blood and tiny goosebumps, a sign you’ve been there for quite some time.

Wanda wriggles her fingers, feeling the warmth, and thinks about how hard it must’ve been to sit there as long as you did.

She can’t help but think how stupid you are.

But stupidly kind.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

You watched Wanda’s face, dazed and stoic and pursed your lips as you finished up cooking.

Perhaps she was mad?

It felt like you did cross a line.

“Listen, Wanda—I’m sorry about the…hand-holding—”

“I’m hungry,” Wanda cuts you off, and you say nothing more but licking your lips as you bring the dishes to the table.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence until Wanda decides to break it again.

“Why three months?” She asks, stopping your spoon from entering your mouth mid-air. You put the spoon back down in your bowl and look over at her.

“I hardly think a month will change you, so I asked for three,” you say simply.

“Three months won’t change anything either,” Wanda argues back.

“Then I will just ask for more,” You scoop more food onto your spoon again. “If you’re so sure you’ll want to die, then it doesn’t quite matter if it’s a couple months later, does it? You can spare me more time, can’t you?”

Wanda bites her tongue.

“Why are you doing this?” She’s gripping her spoon harder then she means to, but she just doesn’t understand.

You look over at her thoughtfully.

“I want to know you.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Are you warm enough?” Wanda asks unsure as she looks at the blanket and pillow you’ve got on the couch.

You hum, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Somehow, you’ve negotiated to living with her because if you want to help her, then you need to be with her. Less time together means more likely you’ll begging for more time in the end.

That’s what you told Wanda anyways, and she seemed to reluctantly agree.

Wanda walks back to her room, settling in her familiar bed and sighs as she looks at the ceiling.

All this eating together, sleeping, talking, and sharing…it was only for three months.

After three months, she can say no to more time and everything would go away.

Even though that’s what Wanda kept telling herself, she kept tossing and turning in bed. Her hand kept clenching and opening, and she already knew what she was missing—or wanted, exactly.

Wanda liked holding hands. She _wanted_ the handholding. It felt good, the warmth and steady pressure.

It was a mix of both pride and fear that stopped her from getting out of bed to ask you. So, she lied there, thinking about with family you don’t get a choice. She would hold hands with Pietro when he cried the first time he was rejected from his dream job, or when his long-time girlfriend moved to another city. And while she was always willingly there for Pietro, she did realize one thing.

Wanda liked having the choice.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When Wanda woke through the night again, she knew right away it was different.

She sat up and hesitantly wriggled her fingers, feeling the familiar warmth and pressure. Looking down, she found you sitting on the ground by her bedside again, the similar lack of blood and goosebumps on your arms.

The wriggling seemed to wake you slightly as you hummed quietly, eyes still closed before you intertwined your fingers more intimately. Your thumb pressing into the back of Wanda’s hand and fingers lacing together.

She lay back down facing you, watching you as your head rest on your free arm, unaware of anything.

How stupid, Wanda thought.

You were going to catch a cold like this.

But Wanda was already smiling.


	5. Part V

“Why did you bring them here?” Wanda hissed while Steve sheepishly shrugged.

“We wanted to meet her!” Clint exclaims as he bustles through with Bucky, who calmly walks through with a slight smile towards Wanda.

Bucky, she can understand being with Steve and all, but Clint?

While she loved Clint too, he had a knack for putting his nose in places that it doesn’t belong in.

“Wanda, who’s at the–oh, hello,” you smile a little sheepishly because you’ve got some flour on your cheek, and you’re in an apron. You run your fingers through your hair, grinning when you notice Steve.

“Hi, I’m Clint, and that’s Bucky!” Clint is shaking your hand excitedly while Wanda is scowling at him. 

“So, how did you meet–” Clint is cut off abruptly when Wanda walks past him.

“I’m hungry,” Wanda says as she passed you into the kitchen. You don’t really have the time to answer Clint’s question, so you nod your head after Wanda.

“Why don’t you all stay for dinner? I think I might’ve made too much for just Wanda and me, anyways,” You walk back to the kitchen to finish cooking and baking. 

Wanda is sitting at the table, frowning at Clint while he merely smiles charmingly at her. 

“She’s pretty,” Clint comments quietly enough so only everyone at the table will hear.

Wanda frowns more deeply.

“You two seem compatible,” Clint comments further, and Wanda doesn’t know how to take it.

“We probably don’t have anything in common,” Wanda whispers consciously back.

The talking stops as you bring the food out to the table, settling a beautiful golden brown peach cobbler on the table. 

“Oh,” Clint eyes the dessert with a twinkle in his eye, “Wanda’s got you making peach cobbler, huh?”

It’s such a weird comment, Wanda thinks. She thinks that Clint should’ve also just said that it was Wanda’s favorite, but it’s not like he knows that Wanda hasn’t told you that it’s her favorite.

You hum, scrunching your brows. “No, I just like peach cobbler, it’s my favorite.”

And for the rest of the dinner, Wanda can’t avoid Clint’s teasing and sparkling eyes because he’s noticing that she’s eating every single bite.

Everyone’s buzzing around her, talking about the change you’ve brought to Wanda when no one has been able to for a year.

And for a moment, there’s a pressure hanging over Wanda not to slip.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

A month and a half. 

Time passes by, and it feels like things have and haven’t changed.

The cut on your hand has long since healed, but Wanda can’t help but notice its faint scar every day.

They’re currently eating on the couch, opting to stray from the dining table as they watch TV together.

You have the volume lower because you love eating together. It may be the only time that Wanda says what she’s thinking. 

“What do you do for a living?” Wanda blurts out because it occurs to her even after all this time, she doesn’t know anything about you. 

You turn to her and smile at her outburst.

“I’m a pediatric psychologist,” you tell her, “I own my own practice, but I have my business partner running the show while I’m on leave.”

Wanda’s quiet for a moment, a little tense, and you give her a reassuring smile.

“Relax,” you tell her, “you’re not my patient, and I’m not constantly psychoanalyzing you. We’re just…friends.”

And while Wanda says nothing about the friends comment, she does lower her shoulders. She tries to think about you working with children, and Wanda sees you being a wonderful psychologist.

But then you’re looking at the TV again, and the silent stretches and Wanda blurts things out without thinking, “Your family must be proud.”

“I don’t have a family,” you say, looking at the TV a moment longer before looking at Wanda.

A small chuckle leaves your lips, “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t say that. I did have a brother, but when my parents died when I was 8, he was only 18 and decided he couldn’t take care of me and left me at an orphanage. Unfortunately, at that age, no one really wants to adopt you.”

And while you explain it nonchalantly as if to convey to Wanda to not worry about it, she bites down on her tongue as her own voice comes back to dig at her.

_“Do you have a brother or sister who loved you, would do anything for you?”_

God, she had been so fucking callous.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“You look good. Healthy. Not skeleton-y,” Natasha comments as she cuts some apples up for Wanda. 

Wanda only hums, stirring the spoon around her bowl of food that you had left her before going. Natasha came shortly after, unplanned and unannounced as always.

“Where is she, by the way?” Natasha asks as she looks around but doesn’t find you.

“Shopping,” Wanda answers. The words are short and contrite, and Natasha could tell that Wanda was glad for your absence, but she didn’t know the guilt and shame that came along with it. 

Natasha makes a sound in reply, cleaning the knife that cut the apples when Wanda blurted out, “Have you–Is there a way to apologize to someone without saying it?”

Natasha tries to hold her grin but can’t hide her snort.

“Why? Did you have a fight with her?” Natasha asks.

“No,” Wanda says immediately, eyes shifting to the side, “I just…might have said something I shouldn’t have.”

“Hm,” Natasha hums, leaning back against the counter with her arms crossed. “And it’s too hard for you to actually just say you’re sorry?”

“A little,” Wanda thinks about her pride.

“How do you expect her to know you’re sorry then?”

“That’s why I’m asking you.”

Natasha merely snorts again and stands up straight.

“You know,” Natasha starts, “Steve texted me that he’s caught the two of you holding hands while sleeping a few times now.”

“That’s–” Wanda blushes, rushing to explain, but she really has no explanation.

“ _Whatever_ the reason is,” Natasha cuts her off, “I’m just saying it’s probably really straining for her to be holding your hand while on the ground.”

“We’re not–” Wanda tries again, but Natasha blows her off.

“I mean, if you were on the same level, it would probably be easier to do whatever you’re doing.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything else and lets Wanda mull over her words, still stirring her food around.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Hey,” You breathlessly say, “I got that candy you wanted. They didn’t have the family-sized, so I just got you a couple bags.”

“Thanks,” Wanda says as she sits at the kitchen island, wringing her shirt a little nervously.

“Oh, did Natasha come by?” You asked as you looked at the cut apples. “She always cuts the apples the best way. It looks like a bunny!”

“Mhm,” Wanda hums, the words clawing at the back of her throat.

She coughs, clearing her throat and grabbing your attention.

“About yesterday…”

You smiled kindly at her, taking pity on how hard Wanda was trying right now.

“It’s really fine, Wanda. It’s all in the past. I hardly even remember it, and everything turned for fine for me in the end, see?” You twirl around for her to exaggerate what you said, giving her a brighter smile as you start to put the groceries away.

But Wanda calls your name again. 

It’s really bothering her.

You turn back to look at her with curious eyes while Wanda knaws on her lips.

“He was a coward to not try for you.”

—-

“So, have you thought about maybe painting again?” You ask, helping Wanda shift through all the requests she’s gotten over the years, sorting by the most prominent requesters.

It had been a year since Wanda even picked up a paintbrush because every time she had previously, the colors would quickly turn black, splattered over the canvas before Wanda would puncture holes through it with her brush.

All alone, the inspiration had long left her, crumbling beneath her until nothing held her footing.

But these days, Wanda would get a glimpse of a color or an image in her mind, but her fingers would only twitch at the urge.

Because if she paints, it would be the same as admitting that you were helping her, and that left her at risk of losing again.

And she was only at risk of losing again because you would inch your way past all her barriers, and having a piece of her heart.

A piece that Wanda has no control over.

Wanda doesn’t say anything to the question, just stares at the blank canvas that she hasn’t ruined.

“You shouldn’t hold back,” you tell her, “I’ll be here for you.”

“For now,” Wanda grumbles faster than she can hold it, but it opens her up to you.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

“You can’t promise that!” Wanda hisses at you before biting her tongue and remaining silent because she doesn’t want to say anything that she’ll regret later on again.

It’s silent for a moment, and Wanda freezes up the moment she feels you touching her hand, and yanks it away on instinct. She regrets it immediately, though, when Wanda sees you recoil back with an apologetic look on your face.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me.”

The apology is completely sincere and falls off your tongue so easily, and Wanda is crumbling underneath in guilt.

—-

You tell Wanda goodnight and go to the couch without waiting for her to respond back to it.

Wanda lies silently in her bed, looking at the ceiling. 

The hand holding always came sometime in the middle of the night, first when you heard her having a nightmare, and then came regardless after you thought she was asleep. 

But tonight, you don’t come. It’s in consideration for Wanda that you don’t, she knows, but it makes her want to scream. 

It’s absolutely petrifying to be open with someone, be willing to take steps towards them. It left you susceptible to pain, and Wanda’s done very well at not experiencing more pain. 

On the one hand, Wanda did not want to get hurt again, but on the other, she was not willing to give up the hand holding.

Natasha’s words come back into her head.

_“I mean, if you were on the same level, it would probably be easier to do whatever you’re doing.”_

Her heart thumps as she gets up, her blanket falling to the floor as she steps out the door, walking across into the living room to the couch.

You’re still awake.

“Are you okay?”

No, Wanda decides, she’s not fucking okay.

And even though Wanda is the one to lift your blanket up, she’s the one who feels exposed as she forces her way to lie next to your body on the couch.

She uses the blanket and grips it to cover her shoulder. She’s as tense as a rock, and her eyes are fraught with nervousness. She miraculously tenses even more when you put your arms over her, gently messaging her neck.

And Wanda stays like that until she becomes a soft puddle in your arms. Her forehead is pressed against your chin, and her eyes are screwed shut as she opens her mouth in a raspy whisper.

“I’m sorry.”


	6. Part VI

"So, it's been almost two months."

Wanda's eyes traveled to Steve for a slight second before she looked away.

"Yeah," she answers shortly.

"You're eating again. I mean, you won't eat dinner without her like a child, but you're eating," Steve points out as he washes the vegetables and starts cutting them.

Wanda pushes around the various spices laid out on the table, knocking some of them over before picking them back up again.

"I just happen to be hungry when she's eating too." 

But Wanda knew she would rather starve than eat dinner without you.

Steve looked at his friend, smiling as he looked back down to finish cutting the vegetables. 

"At least now, I know you'll keep her around."

"Why do you say that?" Wanda asks absentmindedly.

"Because you've been staring at the clock for her this entire time."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You come in with Natasha, Clint, and Bucky in a flurry, grocery bags falling onto the ground as you heave a sigh.

"Sorry we're late. Someone," You squint at Clint, "Wouldn't let us leave until he compared all prices for the desserts."

"I saved us 5 dollars!" Clint indignantly replied.

Wanda's home becomes lively with everyone running around in the house with Tony being the final person to arrive with wine. There was laughter as Natasha almost burned the house down, and squealing as Clint tried to throw random things in the dishes before the two were kicked out the kitchen, and only Steve and Bucky left to cook.

It would've been much faster to have you help, but no one wanted to disturb you from your significant position in this household.

You saw how the second you enter through the door, Wanda's eyes fluttering with relief as she relaxed. You walked over to her and pulled her into a hug as you rubbed soothing circles on her back.

"I'm here," you reassured her because Wanda was someone who needed it constantly because she was scared constantly.

You stroke her head, fingers running through her hair as Wanda relaxes in her hold and whispers in your ear.

"I couldn't stop watching the clock."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The rest of the gang walks home together, slowly reaching the point where they'll split ways.

"They're totally going to date," Clint says, holding the leftover containers in his hands.

"You think so?" Natasha asks. The night was pleasant. It's been a while since so many people were over at Wanda's place. Her home is starting to feel a little warmer, and that makes Natasha happy.

"Oh, yeah," Clint grins. He had been teasing Wanda about how she would wait for you to put her plate together and wait for you to start eating before she did. Of course, he stopped when he saw Wanda flush red in her cheeks and ears.

"Did you see the way Wanda looked at her the moment she came in?" Clint laughs.

Steve smiled, strolling leisurely along with the group as he looked at the ground.

"You should've seen the way she waited."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda liked that you went with the flow. Because even though Wanda would catch you staring at her with questioning eyes, you never said anything.

Perhaps it was selfish of Wanda to let you exist in limbo, even if you seemed to exist well in there.

She could tell your eyes were asking what it was Wanda wanted from you. 

What did she want you to be for her?

But Wanda didn't know how to answer.

Because they weren't friends. Friends probably don't sleep together every night, wrapped up in each other's limbs in the morning. But they weren't...dating. 

Wanda didn't know what she wanted if she were quite honest. 

And so, Wanda didn't respond to your questioning eyes.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was warm.

A little too warm.

Wanda opened her eyes to find you pressed against her side in bed. Lying there, she thought about how much nicer it was to sleep together on the bed than on the couch. 

Although, Wanda conceded that the couch did allow her to squish closer to you. 

Wanda turned slowly, her legs still tangled as she lay on her folded arm on the pillow to look at you. She stared at the lashes of your closed eyes, down to the bridge of your nose, and even your slightly parted lips as you breathed in and out puffs of air. 

And for a moment, Wanda swallowed, trying to distance herself from your touch, but you pulled her closed until your lips were pressed against her collarbone. Goosebumps erupted all over herself, a quiet thudding in her heart getting faster.

There were so many things Wanda could've done. She could get out of bed, she could've woken you up, she could've done anything, but Wanda didn't.

Like a small flame being lit within her chest, there was a small whisper of a confession inside herself.

Wanda wanted to be closer to you.

She was ready to risk the possibility of losing again.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"I've got to head to work today, there are some problems. I'll see you later!"

You ran out the door, not even bothering to wait to hear Wanda reply as you were well aware of the fact she never bid goodbyes. 

Wanda stared at the clock from the couch. Work was about 8 hours, and she sighed impatiently and forlornly. You would make it back for dinner, Wanda told herself to settle the discomfort in her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Seriously, Wanda, just give it a try!"

Wanda rolled her eyes without looking at her brother.

"Why?" Wanda asked as she stroked her paintbrush across her canvas.

"Because I'm actually concerned you're going to die alone. I saw you looking at the cats when we passed by the shelter the other day. You can't get a cat...alone," Pietro leaned against the wall, admiring his sister's work.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Wanda squints at her brother momentarily before returning to her work.

"Trying your hand at watercolor, finally?" Pietro asks as he comes up behind his sister.

"Yeah, I'm not sure why you like it, though," Wanda sighs, "I can see all the lines I drew underneath. It doesn't look perfect at all."

Pietro looks at his sister's hand to see a mess of colors all over her hands and fingers.

"Exactly," he says, looking at the pencil lines on the canvas, "it's truly a work of art."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was dark.

Much past dinner time. 

In fact, it's been 10 hours and 32 minutes.

Wanda could not sit still. She couldn't eat or sleep.

She was experiencing an array of emotions that went from confusion, worry, anger, back to worry, and again to anger.

Why were you so late? 

Why didn't you call?

You said you would see her later.

But then Wanda would agonize because later was so vague. There's no time stamp on that.

Was work just longer than you expected, or were you hurt?

Wanda groaned in frustration, slamming herself back on the couch as she leaned her head back, facing the ceiling with her hands over her face.

The helplessness she felt grew with each tick of the clock.

She looked again and groaned.

10 hours and 43 minutes. 

And Wanda was all too aware that you made her feel too human. 

The doorknob jiggled, and Wanda shot up.

"Hey, did you eat--"

"Where were you?"

You stood there, having just shut the door and keys still in your hand as you faced Wanda down the hall. Wanda has had plenty of time to stew in her anger, and with her lack of control lately, she was going to make sure you felt all of it.

"Why didn't you call?"

"I had an emergency patient--"

Your explanation is cut short, Wanda not even bothering to hear it as she lurched forward to pull you into her arms.

"I'm sorry you keep looking at me and holding back your questions. I'm sorry I left you in limbo, but I don't know what I want from you," Wanda says in the crook of your neck. The words are rushed, and Wanda is holding onto you tightly with silent pleas. 

Your arms are half-lifted in shock, but you slowly wrap your arms around Wanda in return. She was warm, such a wonderful quality that you adored. 

You pull back, looking at Wanda briefly. You knew that Wanda was petrified. The fabric of your jacket rubbed between her fingers anxiously, and her eyes would flicker with bursts of emotions.

It was fear that Wanda constantly felt, and you know she would never make the first move. So, you moved closer, pressing your lips to hers, her bottom lip quivering as your tongue ran against it before drawing it in again between your lips.

You pull back, just slightly as you whisper against her lips, "You can want anything you want from me. It's okay if you want my time, my attention, and all my affections."


	7. Part VII

"So, are you dating now?"

"No, we're friends," Wanda says as she fiddles with the salt and pepper shakers at the counter while Steve preps lunch.

"Friends don't kiss," Steve points out.

"They can sometimes," Wanda shrugs.

"Not like that," he grins, while Wanda jabs her tongue to the inside of her cheek. 

Steve put down the knife, eyeing Wanda, and put his hand on her head to rub it gently.

"I can't help but be a little worried. You've been in a real bad place for a year, and I don't think I can handle another spiral from you," Steve stops rubbing Wanda's head and gives her a small, sad smile. "You know, death isn't the only way to lose someone. She's a wonderful gal; I hope you can appreciate the beauty of someone belonging with you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

That night, Wanda lay in her bed with you, just enjoying the quiet of the evening.

Cuddling has perhaps become her favorite pastime. 

"It's almost been three months," you say into the quiet.

"Has it?" Wanda murmurs.

You're lying on your side, elbow onto the pillow as you're propped up on it, looking down at her.

Your fingers drag a soft line down her arm, goosebumps trailing.

"Do you still think about dying?" You ask her. 

Wanda bites her tongue when she feels you lay down comfortably next to her, your head in the crook of her neck and shoulder, your lips sending tingles down her spine as they're pressed against on her shoulder. Invisible shapes are being drawn on her arm as you hold her.

She tells you the truth.

"Not at all."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

_"C'mon, just give it a try!"_

_"No," Wanda deadpans. "Do you not remember the last blind date you set me on? That was awful."_

_"Hey, that was years ago in university. I didn't know any better!" Pietro defends himself._

_"She was straight," Wanda glares at him._

_"Okay, I admit, that was my bad. But I checked that this time!" Pietro holds his hands up and smiles._

_"No thanks," Wanda shakes her head. "Does she even want to meet me?"_

_"Well," Pietro hums._

_"Pietro!" Wanda frowns at him._

_"She's doesn't_ not _want to."_

_"No, that's just setting me up for humiliation," Wanda shakes her head._

_"Oh, come on," Pietro whined, "I've been talking you up for a whole year!"_

_"And her response is she doesn't not want to see me? Yeah, no."_

_"But I even gave her something to give you," Pietro said casually._

_"What did you give her?"_

_"Your yearbook."_

_Wanda stops in her tracks and sighs._

_"Not that I care, but why would you give her that?" She says in disbelief._

_"You should go on a date with her and find out," Pietro smirks._

_Wanda pauses and turns to her brother. "Just face it, I'm going to die alone. With a cat."_

_Pietro laughs, pulling Wanda into a hug, and he messes up her hair._

_"Perhaps you can tease about those things with me since I know how wonderful you are, but remember you'll actually have to say things to others to be understood."_

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Can I ask you something?"

You turned your head to Wanda, who's fiddling with the ends of her shirt.

You open your arms, and Wanda's head falls onto your lap. You put her arm around her as you look back at the TV.

You hum.

"Did you...ever look for your brother after?" Wanda asks.

You trace the ridges of her elbow, fingers trailing down her arm until your hand is over hers.

"No," you admit. "What was there really to say to someone who abandoned you?"

Wanda was silent, but you could tell her eyes were downcasted as she frowned. You lifted your finger to trace her eyebrow, down the side of her face until your fingers rested against her jawline.

"I wasn't always alone, you know," you say with a light smile.

Steve's words of exclusivity pop in her head and Wanda frowns even more while you laugh.

"Relax, he was just a friend. I worked with him for a bit."

Wanda nods, hesitating before asking, "What was he like?"

"Real annoying," you huff, and Wanda lets out a chuckle.

"He acted like he was my big brother all the time. Always up in my business, always making sure I ate, always finding me when I was down," you started with an eye roll, your words becoming softer by the end.

"What happened to him?" Wanda asks.

You look down her, a sad smile.

"Somethings are just not meant to last forever. People can come and go," you tell her.

Wanda turns, so she's facing your stomach as she slightly looks up at you through the side of her eye.

Wanda understands, she really does, she understands better than anyone.

But there's a part of her that wishes that she could tell you that she would never go if she could control the universe.

But instead, she settles for, "I'm here, and I want to stay."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda stared at your hand as the two of you went grocery shopping together.

Let's hold hands.

Please hold my hand.

Can we hold hands?

Wanda went through various ways of asking in her head. 

You strolled leisurely, holding both bags, and Wanda took a deep breath.

"Can I hold a bag?" She asks, and you smile at her and pass one of the bags to her. 

Wanda holds it in her other hand, leaving her left hand free, but you don't seem to catch the hint.

"It's a really nice day, isn't it?"

Not nice enough, Wanda thinks.

By the time you make it home, you start making lunch right away while Wanda watches on the counter. 

Her fingers feel the smooth edges, but she can't help but wish it was the ridges of your hand.

Wanda is well aware she's starting to depend on you, albeit a little reluctantly. But you gave her a feeling she couldn't fully describe.

She found herself wondering things she hadn't wondered about before.

What if she had asked for your hand?

How would it feel to give a kiss instead of only receiving them?

It made Wanda grimace at her own feelings of cowardice, but still, she looked at you, and the feelings of wanting grew.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, it's been three months," you say as you stand at the door.

Wanda is all sorts of confused.

"I told you everything would be okay in three months," you half-joke, but you're holding your bag, and Wanda can't focus on anything.

"Um," you stumble, "I think I have everything, but if you find something of mine, just shoot me a text."

Why? Wanda wonders. Why don't you just stay?

A mix of Pietro's words of saying things to be understood and Steve's words of exclusivity haunt her again.

"O...kay," you drag out when Wanda doesn't answer. "I hope we can still hang out even if there's no reason to meet up now. Text me, alright?"

You turn around to open the door, knowing Wanda doesn't like goodbyes, but it's like the sight of you leaving springs Wanda to life.

She storms over, coming up behind you as she slams her hand on the door and pushes it shut.

Her eyes are watering as she hisses at you, "Everything is only okay because of _you_!"

Fuck asking for the hand, Wanda decides she'll just take it.

"I gave life a second chance for you!" She tells you as she pushes the bag of your shoulder, pulling you closer to her.

How awful it is, she thinks, when tears are running down your face. 

She's salacious, she thinks, as Wanda presses her lips to yours with no warning, deciding that she quite likes giving kisses. Her hands slide under your shirt, feeling the bare skin there, and she likes the feeling of it a lot more than the kitchen counter. 

She knows she's being selfish when she pulls you into her bedroom, holding you close while her lips brush against yours.

"So take responsibility and stay with me," Wanda pitifully whispers, her hand shaking as she holds onto you.

It's both painful and lovely to see you choke on a laugh as you cry happily and nod.


	8. PART VIII

"So, you're dating now?"

Wanda smiles as Steve asks the question again, but this time, she won't lie.

"Yes," she tells him and watches him smile widely.

"Exclusivity is beautiful, isn't it?" Steve laughs while Wanda tries to not roll her eyes at his veiled words of 'I told you so.'

"She is beautiful, and she's mine," Wanda softly smiles.

"Are you scared?" He asked.

"Absolutely petrified," she admits, "but I want her more."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"How was your day?"

The days have been coming to a quiet end, and the evenings after dinner are becoming Wanda's favorite. 

There's something about being full of a warm homecooked meal, and settling on the couch with a fuzzy blanket that excites Wanda.

There's cuddling, hands sneaking under their shirts, and quiet kisses.

"I've got a commission for a painting," Wanda shares the good news which has you smiling.

"That's amazing considering you've been inactive for a year," you rub her back.

"I am amazing," she nods.

"And so humble," you laugh, pressing a kiss to her brow.

Wanda hums, sighing against the gesture of affections.

It's quiet, nothing but the TV playing mindlessly in the background as you enjoy each other's company.

"Do you ever miss your brother? Or the other guy?" Wanda asks, playing with the ends of your shirt.

"I think about them often, but I don't always miss them," you explain to her. 

It was something Wanda feared. All she had left of Pietro were memories, and if she didn't miss him all the time, then what becomes of the memories?

You trace a line down Wanda's back, eliciting a shiver.

"We are not always grieving, and we are not forgetting. Growing means we can appreciate the past in the new light."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Where is she?" Natasha asks, digging into her salad while Wanda is painting.

"She's back at work," Wanda replies as she dips her brush into more water.

"And you're painting again," Natasha notes.

"Inspiration hits at the oddest times," Wanda smiles.

Natasha had seen Wanda shift many times. The hardest was seeing the girl grieve. There was nothing that could describe how she felt watching the life fade from her friend's eyes, the weight she has lost, and the trashed canvases. 

But she had seen Wanda shift again when you came. It was slow, and Natasha is sure Wanda was barely tolerating your presence at first. But it was small and steady. The eating, the curiosity, and the waiting Natasha saw were wonderous. 

"Do you still think about Pietro?" Natasha asks softly.

"Yes," Wanda admits, "All the time."

"Does it still hurt?"

"No," Wanda slowly answers.

She doesn't say much else, but Wanda can tell that Natasha wants to ask her why. 

It was only something that Wanda had discovered over the last few days. 

Wanda dips her brush in more water.

"Have you ever read the Children's Book, _'The Invisible String'_?" Wanda asks, hearing Natasha hum in return.

"Pietro read to me all the time as a kid, especially after our parents died," Wanda dipped her brush in some blue paint. "I thought my string with Pietro was cut because I kept tugging on it, and I didn't know if Pietro could feel it."

"And?" Natasha asked.

"I think the string got so tangled with me constantly pulling on it that I forgot that the string still exists because I still feel the tug of it," Wanda stares at her painting. "You know what I think?"

"What?" Natasha asks with a smile.

"I think the string exists as long as I exist."

Natasha is happy with Wanda's answer. She finishes her salad before she watches her friend finish painting.

"You like watercolor?"

Wanda dipped her brush in water, looking at the lines that she drew underneath the paint.

"Yeah, it's truly a work of art."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sheets shuffled around as you felt Wanda get out of bed. 

It turns out, Wanda gets the best hit of motivation and inspiration just as the sun comes up. She leaves to go to her studio to start painting but always makes sure to come back to wake you up with a kiss and tea.

You feel a tug on your left hand, and something cool being pressed across, before a rush of cool air being blow. But for the sake of Wanda, you keep your eyes closed.

When you wake up, you see a thin, red, squabbly circle painted around your wrist.

Then across your forearm, there was a scribbled message.

_Your string leads to mine, should I show you?_

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"How do you know mine leads to yours?" 

You're sitting together at the counter with Wanda, tea, and coffee in hand before going to work.

"Because when you miss me, I feel it tugging on my heart," Wanda smiles sleepily.

"And when you miss me?" You ask with a tilt of your head and a grin.

"Then, I'm vigorously sending my love through the string until it tugs on your heart."

You can't help but smile wider because Wanda has such a way with words, and she's so honest and endearing. 

Wanda sets her cup down, opening her arms until you come to settle into her arms, leaning on her.

You kiss the crown of her head, running your fingers through her unruly hair, laughing when it doesn't quite make a difference.

"I love the mornings with you," Wanda mumbles.

"You didn't before?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about how it was all temporary before, that eventually, you would leave and I would be alone."

"We're not always together, though," you remind her, brushing her hair slightly to the side.

"Even when we're apart, I think about how you'll come home to me," Wanda licks her lip.

You swallow, your heart feeling a little too full, and the only way to manage it is to press your lips to Wanda's. 

They're in the privacy of their own home, but it felt scandalous to feel your hand underneath Wanda's shirt, your warm palm pressing between her bare shoulder blades.

You watch as Wanda's eyes flutter.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask against Wanda's lips.

"I'm thinking about how I'm in love with you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Days off were rare, but Wanda loved every time she got to laze around with you at 2PM on a Thursday.

You were currently on the couch, hoarding her right hand, grinning as you saw the same painted thin, red, squabbly circle. 

There have been talks about tattooing it, but for now, Wanda diligently draws them on every day.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't move," you whine.

Wanda watches you with a slow smile as she feels scribbling on her arm.

When you finish, you give her a kiss right smack on her lips before going to grab late lunch. Or early dinner.

Wanda looks to see what you've written.

_наша любовь это произведение искусства._

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Steve watched with happiness as Wanda chopped the vegetables. 

"How's the painting going?"

"It's going," Wanda shrugs. Inspiration comes and goes, but she's close to finishing it.

"You should open your own gallery," Steve says. "I'll threaten people to come to opening night."

Wanda lets out a laugh knowing Steve would actually be politely handing out flyers. Steve closes his eyes, a joy from being about to hear such a sound from his friend again.

"How are things with her?" Steve asks, watching the way Wanda's eyes light up ever so subtly.

"She wants to find a new place with me," Wanda smiles.

"Why doesn't she move here?" Steve asks.

Wanda tilts her head, looking down at her vegetables.

"It takes her forever to get work. I want to be able to give her something too for all that she's done."

Steve settles into a soft smile, his eye catching something on Wanda's forearm. 

"Is that Russian?" He asks.

Wanda catches him staring at her arm and flushes slightly.

"Yes," she tells him.

"What's it mean?"

"It means our love is a work of art."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Wanda...Wanda..."

Wanda wakes up groggily to see you hovering over her with a frown.

"What's wrong?" She asks as you lie your head back down on the pillow facing her.

"What if...what if our string gets tangled or breaks?"

Wanda can tell you've had a bad dream. 

And for once, she's the courageous one, ready to offer you reassurances.

She rolls over, pushing you on your back, hovering over you with her body pressed to yours as her fingers slide against your jaw.

"Our string can get tangled, it can be pulled on, it can even get lost," Wanda says, her breath on your lips. "But it will never break because as long as we exist, we will always find a way to each other."

Tears spill over your eyes as Wanda kisses you deep and slow.

That morning when you wake up, surprised to have slept through Wanda waking up. 

You see the diligently painted red thin circle around your wrist, and the words this morning makes you cry.

_If anyone could show me life is worth living, it is you._


	9. Part IX

Moving into the new place is a whirlwind with you.

You let her paint all over the walls for decorations, and Wanda's never had so much fun picking a couch before.

Wanda is currently flushing red as Natasha is over, and she had caught the two of you amorously loving each other.

You had to go to work, so Wanda was left to face the embarrassment alone.

"You certainly have a lot of energy," Natasha comments, and Wanda drops her paintbrush.

"I can't help it," Wanda mumbles.

"Oh, it's fine. At least you're doing it in the name of love. Loudly, but for love."

"You could hear us?"

"We can hear you every time," Natasha deadpans.

"We?" Wanda emphasizes.

"My only advice is that you pick better times to do it if you can. Clint had to wait outside for an hour and a half last time he came over."

Wanda flushes, her ears a hot red while she tries to resume painting.

She can't help it if she wants to have you when she does.

"So, was Clint right?"

"About?" Wanda mumbles.

Natasha stares at her friend and frowns.

"That she's the top?"

Wanda slams her paintbrush down.

"No one is allowed to be friends with Clint anymore."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were weird on the phone today.

A little skittish in Wanda's opinion. You said you wanted to take her somewhere after work. 

She couldn't help but worry that maybe you were regretting everything, but then you showed up at home at 7 PM with flowers in your hands.

"Would you go somewhere with me? I have something to tell you."

A look of worry passed over Wanda's face, but she nodded as she grabbed her jacket.

The ride was quiet. You were tense as your hand would grip the steering wheel before relaxing, the cycle repeating.

"Where are we going?" Wanda asked. 

"I wanted to show you the person who made sure I wasn't alone," you tell her. 

Wanda is surprised because she wasn't aware that your friend was in the same town. She thought they were out of your life, as you had indicated.

But then, when you pull up into the cemetery, Wanda's heart dropped.

"Why didn't you say so?" Wanda looks at you, heartbreaking at the sad smile on your face.

"It doesn't change that people do come and go."

Wanda doesn't say anything and lets you lead her. She feels a little on the edge because she knows this cemetery too well by now, and the route is familiar.

The two of you come to a stop, and Wanda looks at the gravestone she's seen many times before. She used to spend hours every day sitting here.

You put flowers down before standing up and looking at Wanda with wet eyes.

"I have something to give you," you quietly say, your hand fishing in your pocket before you pull something out and put in Wanda's palm.

Her yearbook. 

Wanda looks back at the gravestone, the words searing on her eyes.

Pietro Maximoff.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

**_Flashback..._ **

_You were in a bit of tizzy. You and your business partner just recently bought the space to open your own psychology clinic._

_You had just hired a marketing firm to help you with your advertising for your grand opening. He would be arriving in a couple of minutes with his advertisement plan._

_"Hello?"_

_You shoot up from your office, putting down the boxes as you rush to the front._

_"Hello!" You say breathlessly, feeling a little shame at what a mess you look like._

_The guy standing there looked equally of a mess with his blond hair with dark roots in an array. He looked a little breathless, and you guessed he was running late._

_The two of you stand there, looking at each other before the two of you start laughing._

_"I'm Pietro, your marketing manager."_

_⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷_

_"Pietro, the job had been done weeks ago. Why do you keep coming here?" You quirk your brow._

_You and Pietro had hit it off quite well, getting to know each other as he helped you with advertising your clinic and services._

_But it was professional. Except Pietro had kept coming even after everything was finished._

_Monday it was coffee, Tuesday was lunch, Wednesday was dropping off a coffee and a bagel, and now it was Thursday, and he had come on his lunchtime again._

_"I just wanted to see if you wanted to go for dinner," he smiles._

_You stand there, brow still quirked as you assessed him._

_"Alright."_

_"Cool, how about 8 PM?"_

_You nod, and Pietro smiles and runs out the building again._

_⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷_

_Dinner is a pleasant affair._

_He is flirty but respectful. He holds doors and chairs open for you but doesn't make a move to grab your hand or try to get closer._

_Pietro is talking about his plans to see his sister next weekend when you interrupt him._

_"Do you keep coming by my office because you're interested in me?"_

_It's blunt, but you rather be straight forward about it._

_Pietro stops his story, mouth still open before closes it sheepishly._

_"No," he admits, "I actually wanted to set you up with my sister."_

_"Pass," you say immediately._

_"What!" Pietro says. "C'mon, you guys would be a perfect match."_

_"Not interested in dating," you tell him as you eat your food, more relaxed that it's not a date._

_Pietro groans and you laugh a bit before he starts eating again._

_⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷_

_Even after your blunt rejection, Pietro still comes by the office to pester you into getting lunch._

_He lectures you that you can't skip it even if you're busy and lists all the things that could happen to you if you don't eat._

_"Cancer? Really?" You say to him._

_"Everything causes cancer," he tells you seriously._

_"Wouldn't that mean that even eating can cause cancer?" You argue back at him._

_"Exactly," he says seriously, "If we're all going to get cancer regardless, you should eat and have a full stomach at least."_

_You laugh, a weird familial warmth filling the pit of your stomach._

_"You seriously haven't changed," you tell him._

_"What do you mean?" He asks you._

_You roll your eyes, but you don't expect him to remember._

_"Pietro Maximoff, track and field captain, while also the student council president. The guy everyone wants to be friends with."_

_Pietro's mouth dropped._

_"We went to the same university?" He says excitedly. "You do know my sister too then!"_

_"Yeah, she's really nice," you say while you look down at the ground with your hands shoved in your pocket._

_"Nice?" Pietro snorts. "No one ever says that about her."_

_You chuckle._

_"She beats up bullies, so she's automatically nice even if she seems like the equivalent to a cactus."_

_"So, you're saying you will go on a date with her!" Pietro says excitedly._

_"Are you deaf? Nowhere in what I said says I'll go on a date with her."_

_"But you just said she's nice!" Pietro whines._

_"I also said she's the equivalent to a cactus."_

_"Wanda's really wonderful, trust me."_

_You merely hum._

_⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷_

_It's a little weird, you admit. Having someone like Pietro who goes out of his way to spend time with you._

_People ask all the time if you're dating, but Pietro always laughs it off and says that you're like family to each other._

_"I'm her big brother!"_

_"You're only two months older," you would always say in response._

_"God, you're like Wanda. Older is older," Pietro would joke._

_He talks about Wanda a lot. You can tell he clearly adores her. You're not sure you really understand sibling bonds because of your own brother._

_But Pietro talks as if he would move mountains for her, and talks like Wanda wouldn't hesitate to take a bullet for him._

_"Is that piece of shit calling you again?"_

_You look away from your phone screen to Pietro's scowling face._

_He knows everything about you._

_He knows that your brother has been trying to get back in touch with you._

_"Yeah," you sigh as you put your phone down and sit back in your chair. You have 30 minutes to relax before your next patient comes._

_Your brother had seen you in an online advertisement and has been calling your workplace. You picked up the phone one, talked to him briefly before he started saying how he needed cash._

_You haven't picked up the phone since._

_"You should just let me pick up the phone and tell him to fuck off," Pietro glares at the offending phone._

_"You have a lot of free time," you say to him in response._

_"I'm a director now, hell yeah, I have lots of time," Pietro laughs._

_The two of you banter some more when the receptionist tells you your appointment is here._

_Pietro smiles at you before he walks out of the office with you following him._

_Except, at the front desk, you see your brother standing there._

_"What the hell," you mutter under your breath._

_"What are you doing here?" You say to him._

_"Miss, that's your appointment," the receptionist tells you._

_"My appointment is supposed to be with a Leon--" You groan because he used a fake name to book the appointment._

_"You need to get the hell out of here, Jake," you glare at him._

_"I just need 5 minutes to talk, don't you want to talk after all this time?" Jake frowns at you._

_You want to make a scene, but this is your workplace, so you drag Jake into your office with Pietro right on your heels._

_"No, I don't want to talk or catch up. Why would I want to catch up with someone who left me at an orphanage?" You hiss at him._

_"I was 18!" Jake defends himself. "I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone you. I left you for the best."_

_You scoff at the response._

_"And what? You want to catch up now? Or is this about the cash you said you needed."_

_Jake is quiet._

_"I just need a loan," he says instead._

_There's a scoff in the background._

_The two of you look over to see Pietro there looking at Jake in disgust._

_"What's your problem?" Jake glares at him. "Get out of here, this is family business."_

_"I am family," Pietro says in return._

_"With family like me, she doesn't need your ass around here," Pietro pulls out his checkbook from the inner chest pocket of his suit jacket._

_"Take this, and get the fuck out of here. If you ever come back around here without her wanting you around, I'll sue you," Pietro threatens, ripping out a cheque and shoving it into Jake's hand._

_You catch the numbers as your eyes widen._

_It was $10,000._

_Jake's eyes are wide too, but he looks at Pietro once more before looking at you._

_"Deal," Jake says and leaves._

_"Fucking dick," Pietro mutters as Jake leaves the building._

_"What the hell, Pietro!" You yell at him._

_"Why did you give him $10,000?"_

_"Because jerks like that will keep coming around until they get what they want. Or until their legs are broken, but I don't know anyone who can do that for me. Yet."_

_You stare at him in disbelief, but he just laughs and pulls you in for a hug._

_"$10,000 is nothing to make sure my little sister isn't hurt."_

_You denied it when Pietro asked you later if you were crying._

_⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷_

_"You should show up here. At 7 PM."_

_You look at Pietro._

_"Are you trying to set me up with your sister again?"_

_"No. Yes. Maybe," Pietro answers._

_"Give it up, man," you shake your head at him._

_He talks about Wanda all the time. You admit you're a little intrigued by her. But only because Pietro spins her in such a wonderful light, even when he tells you stories of when she's being an asshole._

_"My sister is going to die alone with a cat, have some sympathy, and meet her. I guarantee you'll want to lock her down. I'm convinced she's your soulmate," Pietro determinedly keeps going._

_"Why are you convinced of that?" You quirk your brow._

_"Because she's prickly, you're super nice and patient, and I can't explain it anymore, just meet her!" Pietro whines._

_You laugh._

_"Well, I'll actually be traveling to Europe next month for a volunteer experience there for some less fortunate kids who need counseling. But, I'm not opposed to meeting her when I'm back. No guarantees, though, and on one condition."_

_"What's that?" He asks you excitedly._

_"I want her yearbook, and when I meet her, I'll give it back," you tell him._

_"Why do you want her yearbook?" He asked confusedly._

_"I never got to write in it," you tell him._

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"That was the last time I got to see him. He died while I was in Europe."

Wanda knows because she was in the car accident too.

She opens her yearbook and sees an added message on the back, the only other writing in it other than Pietro's.

_Wanda,_

_You may not recognize me, but I wanted to say thank you, for all those years ago, for sticking up for me and getting my things back._

_Sincerely,_

_The girl you saved._

There was a picture there, and Wanda flipped it over. She sees a picture of you back in university, with a familiar dirty backpack.

"When I saw you at the bridge...I just couldn't let you die. You were someone Pietro loved so much. I--"

"Did you blame me?"

Wanda saw a flash of guilt through your eyes.

"I did at first. I hated you at first. You were his family. He loved you so much, he loved me like family, and now he's gone."

Small things over the past few months pass through Wanda's head. Like how you talked as if you new Pietro, trying to get her to not blame herself.

She listened to the words, a dull ache in her chest because the truth felt like you had blamed her too, and she deserved it.

"But...Pietro was right. I met you, got to know you, and everything Pietro told me about you was right. I couldn't blame him for trying to set me up with you."

What a small word, Wanda thought. 

And you were begging.

"Please don't hate me."

But Wanda merely closed the yearbook and opened her arms so you could dive into her comfort.

Because even though you had blamed her, hated her at first, you still saved Wanda. You still stuck around, cleaned her mess up, loved her even when she was awful to you. 

You took in all her imperfections, loved her, and let her love you.

"You are my soulmate," you confess her to, lips quivering.

"Pietro always had a way of taking care of his family. I asked him at the funeral for help, and he gave me you," Wanda whispered.

Your tears stopped at Wanda's calming words. She pulled back, cupping your face as her thumb wiped your tears.

"I love you," she insists. "I'm never letting this hand go."

She holds up your hand, pressing her lips to the painted red string around your wrist.

"I was lost, but you found me. I'm never letting you go."


	10. Part X

You hadn’t planned to ever meet Wanda. 

When you had come back from Europe because of Pietro’s death, you couldn’t even breathe. 

You blamed her, you knew you shouldn’t. It was an accident, a freak accident. 

But it didn’t stop the pain that Pietro was no longer alive. 

You attended the funeral, in the far back to avoid attention. You saw Wanda there. You could see traces of the girl who saved you in university, but she was thinner and lifeless.

She wasn’t even crying, and you hated her.

Even as all the people slowly began to leave the funeral, Wanda stayed until she was the last person there. She didn’t even notice you standing in the background. 

You don’t know how long you stood there watching her. Hours, maybe.

But then Wanda came closer to the gravestone, dropped to her knees and wailed as she clutched Pietro’s picture.

Wanda cried and cried, and you found yourself crying in the distance too. 

And even with the negative feelings still, underneath the surface, all you could remember was that Pietro loved her. Wanda was the most important person in his life.

Pietro would repeatedly tell you that Wanda was special.

So the person that Pietro cherished the most was hurting, just like you. 

And so, you spent days around the bridge Pietro told you about until one day you saw her there.

She was giving up, and you never thought you’d meet her in this way.

But it was a chance for you to see what Wanda was like, to try to understand Pietro.

And as you spent your days around Wanda, you were beginning to find out that she was indeed special and meant for you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I still miss you, you know. Things may never be the same without you, but I’m not lonely or alone anymore. Because of you, I have someone to love and love me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough, but I hope you can see me from where you are.”

“You ready?”

Wanda looked up to see Natasha standing behind her, smiling. The day is beautiful, the sun is shining, and there’s not a cloud in sight. 

There’s a warm breeze that passes through, and Wanda can’t help but believe it’s a sign from Pietro. She gets up from kneeling at his gravestone.

Today is an important day, and because Pietro cannot come, she will visit him to share the news.

“Yeah,” Wanda smiles. 

“Alright, let’s get you married then,” Natasha smiles, grabbing her friend to get back to the car.

A year has passed. Some may say Wanda is crazy to ask you to marry her only a year in, but when you know someone is meant for you, nothing ever feels fast enough.

A year filled with blissful moments, small arguments, and plentiful of making up.

Wanda doesn’t want you to wait any longer, the two of you have waited long enough. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The ceremony is small, just close friends only. 

The vows you made to each other make the two of you cry.

Wanda slips the custom-made ring around your finger.

The tattoo of the string never came to be as Wanda decided she liked drawing it on every day. But they’ve traded in the paint for rings, as Wanda got a red squabbly line engraved in the inside of their rings.

Flower petals are being thrown as the two of you kiss.

“Forever isn’t even half the time I want to spend with you,” you whisper against her lips.

“Forever only exists for me if it’s you,” Wanda whispers in return.

There are loud cheers from your friends, confetti, and petals being thrown in the air.

Wanda can’t help but think it’s such a beautiful day, that life is so beautiful with you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Are you ready for our honeymoon?" 

Wanda sleepily grins as she pulls you closer in bed. 

"You mean our honeymoon that our friends will be attending too?”

You laugh, “Yes, but you know we’ll still get plenty of alone time.”

You slowly bite your lip, an action you know drives Wanda crazy.

Her hand slips under your shirt, fingers pressed against the skin between your shoulder blade as she drags her nails down lightly, enjoying your shiver.

**_BANG BANG_ **

“WANDA, WE’RE HERE. STOP MAKING LOVE AND OPEN THE DOOR SO WE CAN ALL GO THE AIRPORT!”

It was Clint’s muffled voice through the door that had you laughing and Wanda rolling her eyes.

She ignored it.

“Shouldn’t we go get that? We don’t want to be late to the airport,” You remind her.

“I already checked us in, we’ve got some time. Clint can wait. Again.”

“Did you ever decide what it is you want from me?”

Wanda pulls you back over her, cupping your jaw as she steals kisses that rightfully belong to her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“She’s out of control, Nat!” Clint petulantly says as he glares at Wanda.

Wanda just looks outside the plane window from her aisle seat as if she has no idea what Clint is talking about.

“I was going to joke about the mile high club, but it looks like you already wore her out,” Natasha jokes as she sees you sleeping soundly on Wanda’s shoulder.

Wanda merely licks her lips in response. 

Natasha looks at you and spots some writing on your arm.

She reads it, her heart softening as she looks at Wanda.

“Do you write messages on her arm every day?”

Wanda’s ears flush red, but she nods.

Natasha sighs with a smile.

“No wonder the two of you fuck so much.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When you wake up groggily, you notice the writing on your arm right away. 

Wanda must’ve written it when you fell asleep on the plane. 

**Все, что вы готовы дать**

You smile at her, pulling her in for a kiss.

“God, it means _everything you’re willing to give_. Stop leaning over me, Clint!” Natasha elbow’s Clint back into his seat.

Clint coos while Wanda flushes, and you smile. 

The flight is entirely too long, and checking into the hotel takes even longer.

Steve tells them to get some rest for activities later tonight, and Wanda is already excited at the prospect of locking you in your shared hotel room and participate in activities that do not include sleeping.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Do you need anything?” You ask, a little exhausted from all the lovemaking. There’s still a good two hours before you have to meet up with the group again.

“Hold my hand.”

You laugh, lacing your fingers around her, “I meant anything else other than me.”

Wanda sleepily curls up on your shoulder, smiling as she kisses the bare skin there.

“I can’t think of anything when you’re around,” the words vibrate against your skin, and your heart flutters.

“You seem to blame me for a lot of things,” you tease.

Wanda nods, “I blame you for my happiness too.”

“Wanda, I really don’t have the energy for another round,” the romantic words are killing you, and Wanda laughs.

It’s silent again.

Wanda fiddles with the ring on your finger, smiling.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask her.

Wanda presses her cheek against your shoulder, sliding her palm against yours again until your fingers are laced with hers.

“I’m just thinking about how amazing people are. How amazing how far we’ve come. We can face a loss and somehow overcome that. The people we lose are irreplaceable, but we’re not meant to be alone. The most wonderful part is that we get to choose to live on, have the choice to love.”

You run your fingers through her hair delicately.

“You were in the dark for so long,” you sigh, wishing you had been more open to meeting her earlier.

She smiles as if she can hear what you’re thinking. “Yes, but I think sometimes you have to get lost in the dark to be able to appreciate the light.”

You smile at her. Wanda is a beautiful human being.

“I love you,” you tell her softly.

Wanda looks at you, smiling.

“I’m all about you.”


End file.
